THE HOMICIDAL DOCTOR - Johnlock
by WeirdYetWonderful
Summary: After encountering his brother with disturbing news, Sherlock sets out to uncover the mysteries that lie ahead, risking his life in order to do so. (A Johnlock script)


Season 4 - Episode 1 : The homicidal doctor : Scene 1 - Opening scene

"Sherlock!?"  
"Are you here?!"  
-John barged open the door, as his hands were swollen from carrying the groceries.  
"Sherlo-!?"  
"Do you mind John?"  
"Yes I-"  
"Rhetorical John, sense the tone."  
"Sherlock, for fu-"  
"We've got a client present John, I believe it would be unnecessarily explicit to finish that sentence."  
"Who..?" John questioned, whilst dumping the groceries on the ground with surprise to see his parents sat opposite Sherlock, sipping tea with a grin on their face.  
"Oh John, why didn't you tell us you met someone special? It's nothing to be ashamed of."  
John looked puzzled, as he went to drink his tea, and fell back on his chair.  
"Your mothers right, such a lovely, welcoming, intelligent man, it's rather quite an achievement you've found Sherlock, you make a wonderful couple and we're ever so proud John."

Both John and Sherlock spat their tea out.  
"BOYFRIEND?!" - John exclaimed.  
"LOVELY?!" Sherlock exclaimed. "I'm flattered Mr and Mrs Hudson, but uh..." Sherlock humbly replied, hesitating his response and chuckling.  
"WE'RE NOT A COUPLE." John stated alarmingly, but in a sense of confusion.  
"Pleaasee John, I told them about us, It's okay now."  
"I'M NOT GA-EHHM, WE'RE NOT GAY."  
"Come now John, don't be shy. I was just about to tell them the story of how we met."  
"yes and it was-"  
"ROMANTIC! - do you mind if I tell the story biscuit?"  
"biscui...?" John sighed.  
"It was a Friday afternoon, and my co-worker Mike, you might know him yes? Well, the day before I had explained to him that I was enquiring for a flatmate, and if he knew a suitable candidate to which I could both approve and admire in social context. He posed his dear 'friend' John Watson, and arranged for him to accompany me in the laboratory at approximately 4:30 pm, to which he was five minutes early, and I was currently working on a present case involving the disappearances of several fishermen in the highlands region, or as they ;the police, liked to both inaccurately, and preposterously entitle it as the '_Sherlock-ness monster_' case. Anyway, I made absolutely no eye contact with John at first, but when I could hear his heavenly masculine voice, I had no other choice but to turn and face the mysterious man, and at that point, we both knew it was love at first sight."

"...what?" John added in a sense of confusion.  
"awwe, how sweet!" John's parents said in delight.  
"Then of course I took pleasure in escorting John to; at the time my flat, to contemplate on whether he would be willing to endure his stay here. One thing led to another, and bingo-bango we were engaging in some physically intimate coitus right where both of you are sat Mr and Mrs Watson ." Sherlock chirped up with a misleading avoidance of eye contact, staring down at his tea whilst he blew on it.

The awkward silence filled the room, whilst both John and his parents bit into their custard creams.  
Sherlock grinned while slurping his tea, and gulped, "hence why I call him my 'cream filled biscuit' after sex."  
John looked in shock as he watched his parents uncomfortably listening, with their jaws dropped exposing the ground paste of custard cream biscuits and tea, sitting on their tongues.  
John began to get furious with Sherlock.  
"RIGHT, WE'RE NOT GAY, WE'RE NOT IN LOVE, AND SHERLOCK?!"  
"Yes biscuit."  
"...SEX?!"  
"Rather eager aren't we John?"  
"SENSE THE TONE SHERLOCK."  
"Well, you sound angry and we both know angry sex is the best, biscuit" Sherlock cheekily winked at John.  
"I think it's best we leave you two alone..." Johns parents politely requested, whilst rising from the sofa in slight disgust and desperation to leave.  
"m-mum, d-da-" John tried to redeem his dignity whilst stumbling on his words embarrassingly.  
"Great meeting you Mr and Mrs Watson!" Sherlock smirked at them, waving his hand provocatively to say bye.  
"You... too Sherlock dear" John's mother replied.  
"...WAI-" John desperately exclaimed trying to explain, but noticing it was too late when the door shut in his face.

Sherlock prowled back to his seat, and continued to drink his tea, whilst turning the page of the newspaper.  
The door slammed against the wall as John charged in tearing the newspaper from Sherlock's hand and gripping his hands onto Sherlock's shoulders, shaking him back-and-forth in anger.  
"WHY!?" John cried out  
"Please John, don't make a scene." Sherlock said in a serious voice, projecting a hint of sarcasm as he picked the newspaper back up, and put it on the table.  
"THERE'S NO ONE HERE!?" John yelled at him.  
"I'm here Biscuit." Sherlock grinned at John.  
"Stop it.  
-Stop it now." John pleaded.  
"That's not what you said last night..."  
"SHERLOCK"  
"Yeah, you definitely said that..."  
"NO SHERLOCK THIS ISN'T A JOKE, WHY DID YOU SAY THAT TO MY PARENTS?!"  
"Because you had to confess soon, and to be truthfully honest, It was despicably fun for me..." Sherlock smiled, dusting off Johns grip marks on his plum shirt and straightening his sleeves.  
"FOR THE LAST BLOODY TIME SHERLOCK, I'M NOT-"  
Sherlock pulled John inwards, hooking his index finger down the collar of his shirt, and pressed his lips against john's, softly grazing their tongues together. They passionately kissed slowly for 4 seconds, but it seemed forever. Sherlock wrapped his hand around the back of John's neck whilst continuing to kiss, as John began to run his hand through Sherlock's smooth hair. Sherlock pulled away, and rolled his thumb over John's bottom lip, while tucking his fingers under his chin.  
"But we both know that the end of that sentence is not true." Sherlock softly said to John, whilst staring down at his lips, and gazing back into his eyes.

"BORED"  
"Wh-wha-wh-" John suddenly awoke, flustered and confused.  
"Oh finally John you decided to wake up at eleven."  
"You can talk." John said in a deep, croaky morning voice.  
"I know, and I'm remarkably good at it." "Biscuit?" Sherlock asked with a questionable look on his face.  
John looked terrified and at the same time confused.  
"Um...I'm sorry..?"  
"biscuit? Do you want a biscuit?" Sherlock asked again, this time presenting the pack to offer John.  
"Oh-Thanks" John replied hesitantly.  
"So I heard Mary's due today?"  
"-Well, technically I saw, judging from the nine months since the wedding, her exceptionally bloated womb, dark under-eye circles, mood swings, and your... very noticeable increase in libido in the last few months showing that you've been deprived from s-"  
"-I'm sorry what?" John interrupted.  
"Well yes John, pregnancy is a fatigue process resi-"  
"No not that, the-"  
"Libido?"  
"We really need to stop finishing each others sentences."  
"To be fair John, most of the time it's just interruptions."  
"-And yes, you seem to be moaning in your sleep quite often."  
"This morning I thought you were hungry because you kept saying biscuits, thus why I got the biscuits from Mrs Hudson."  
"But then I found it so astonishing to watch you sleep"

"wai- you watch me sleep?"  
"You say it as if I do it as a continuous routine..."  
"-And no, I was going to request your assistance for dealing with the clients upstairs and wake you up but I found it more amusing to watch you sleep."  
"-Which come to think of it... I'm pretty sure are still up there..."  
"That doesn't explain my libido Sherlock."  
"No, but that erection does." Sherlock stated while directing with his eyes.  
"-Now I'm thinking your not hungry but rather have a fetish for biscuits, but It was too late to hide the packet." Sherlock muttered to himself.  
John turned red in his face, and walked away in embarrassment and shame.  
"Yes... we'll have to tell Mrs Hudson to hide the biscuits." Sherlock mumbled to himself.  
"For god's sake Sherlock, I don't have a fetish for biscuits!" John exclaimed from the bathroom as he went for a shower.  
"Well you had a sexual attraction to something or someone..." said Sherlock as he processed the thoughts in his mind.  
"Ma-Mary... It was Mary." John announced erratically.  
"Well judging by your intolerance to the subject John, your thoughts aren't intact with your words."  
"What are you suggesting...?"  
"I'm suggesting that there's something else going on in that head of yours."  
"So...I'm your new puzzle?"  
"Precisely John."  
"I'm flattered." John said sarcastically.  
"-Haven't you got a case to sort out though Sherlock?"  
... "Ah..yes!" Sherlock spruced up and continued with his client.

Sherlock sat on his chair in a reversed position, with his legs spread wide and his arms resting on the top of the seats back, sitting his chin on top, patiantly listening to the client, as she sat on the sofa opposite him. Her name was Miss Pickens, she was a large lady, mid-forties, with brittle mousey-blonde hair, and thick lensed spectacles. There was no ring nor mark around her fingers indicating that she had never been married, but the presence of powdered sugar traced within her finger nails on her left hand concluded not only that she was left handed, but that she had finished a doughnut before she came here.  
She had linen clothes covered with dust-white specks of fur, possibly from a cat or dog, but more likely a rodent, showing both a lack of hygiene, and a sense of intimate neglect, suggesting she is deprived of both love and sex.  
"So...you're single..?"  
"...yes"  
"A virgin..."  
"How did you-"  
"And you have a pet...erghhh... ferret...? yes?"  
"Called Sherlock, yes."  
"Sherlock...?"  
"Yes, I named him after you, I'm a huge fan."  
"Obviously..." Sherlock responded, with a questionable facial expression as he glanced down at the woman's distended figure.  
"Back to the main topic, why are you here?"  
"I think someone keeps murdering my goldfish Mr. Holmes"  
"I'm sorry, your goldfish?"  
"eh yes, you see I ha-"  
"-In order to save time Miss Pickens I'm just going to say this."  
"-I am quite frankly not interested if someone or something keeps killing your fish, especially considering the possibilities of the fish being dead is greater than it being alive in the circumstances arisen"  
"bu-"  
"-Now do me a favour Miss Pickens and bugger off?"  
Sherlock walked away with a blank expression on his face, while the client gathered her bag in disgust of Sherlock's manners. She barged through the door and down the stairs to leave the apartment 221B, bakers street.

"Excuse me" she blurted out rushing away as quickly as possible, after bumping shoulders with a tall, old fashioned, but well dressed man. He glanced back and sighed muttering the words; "Typical Sherlock..."  
He assembled the door knocker in line with the door, and let himself into 221B Baker street, hooking his umbrella at the end of the stairs. Two shakes of his coat to remove the rain droplets and he slowly walked up to the living-room.  
As he opened the door, a pile of soggy teabags dropped from the upper door-ledge, hitting the man's head and torso repeatedly, staining his shirt.  
"I see you knew I was coming then little brother."  
"Well, I knew that you enjoy being tea-bagged Mycroft."  
"Mature..."  
"-Where's John?" Mycroft asked leering around the room for his presence.  
"In the shower. Why are you here?" Sherlock answered swiftly.  
"Good, so he's not here?"  
"Mycroft, what's going on?" Sherlock asked in slight confusion.  
Mycroft reached his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to Sherlock, with a facial expression of disappointment.  
He said softly, looking deep into his brothers eyes,  
"It's Mary..."


End file.
